Today is a total beach day. And here I am working. Editing photographs of peach muffins and writing up a gluten-free recipe. No rest for the wicked. Or the self-employed. We bloggers toil at our living daily, working through holidays, Sundays, football games, and oftentimes, dinner. We tend and tweak and pretty much live a tethered geek life. The opposite of glamorous.

Or maybe it's just me.

Because there are plenty of extroverted bloggers who travel and attend blogging conferences and hob nob. They dine together and smile brilliantly in group pictures, tweeting breathlessly their mutual squee and Instagram cocktails. And I envy them. Sometimes. Just a little.

But alas, it is not meant to be. I am destined, you see, to the role of wallflower. Because the mere, fleeting snippet of a thought about flying somewhere- alone- which, you know, entails the whole going through various humming x-ray machines and raising your arms for total strangers wielding wands up your inner thigh, not to mention, the whole taking one's shoes off and fumbling to put them back on (the right feet) so that the person (make that seventeen persons) behind you doesn't get impatient while you wrestle with your buckles and your unzipped purse and boarding pass and reading glasses and explain to the squinting security guy that the mystery wad of metal in your bag's side pocket is only dimes and quarters you collect for Santa Monica parking meters as he picks out all thirty-seven coins just to make sure and for good measure keeps your nail clippers (in all the excitement, you didn't confess you were also carrying nail clippers).

And then there's the whole belting yourself into a hulking metal beast with wings that weighs goddess knows how many megatons, and snugging your post-baby pelvis to a polyester burnt orange float-able seat cushion between a shiny headed businessman who obviously ate raw onions for lunch and college professor reading the New York Times who you just know secretly wants to discuss Obama's clean energy policy. Where is Matthew McConaughey when you need him?

Such visions send spikes of fear and loathing down my duodenal canal.

So I imagine muffins.

I inhale peaches at the market admiring their curve and fuzz. I peel them gently and coax out the stone pit. I slice them into jewels that will fit on the tongue and give up a burst of sweet tart juice. I stir almond meal into powder soft flours and squeeze lime juice and sprinkle cinnamon.

Why is it when I bake a coffee cake I get all dreamy and gooey inside, like a knee-socked school girl in Latin class, riveted to the patch of peachy, fuzzy cloud against the swaying swatch of blue between the maple tree branches outside the classroom window, imagining love itself is out there, waiting, breathing, just beyond reach, ready to pounce. Like grace. When you least expect it, a gift arrives.

It mentioned nothing about juggling. Or fierce devotion to coffee. Or a willingness to wash dishes. It neglected to include the seductive power of coffee cake. The sexy allure of a cinnamon dusted chin.

So imagine my surprise when on our second date (post French roast coffee and dirt bomb muffins) he grabs three apples. And juggles. While whistling. I can't remember the tune.

Because my knees turned to pudding.

And now, almost twenty years later, I hear a key in the door. And my heart is grateful. It's him. The guy in a plaid shirt.

Easy. Easy. Easy.Trying to find a Los Angeles sublet for the summer- within our budget- is as slippery and twisted as charting Madonna's romantic liaisons post Guy Ritchie. It's a serpentine endeavor, this whole reading between the lines thing, deciphering what is true and what is only mostly true. It's all those key buzz words peppering Craig's List and Westside Rentals. "Convenient to the 10" can mean the eastern bedroom window sucks in freeway exhaust during rush hour. "Pet friendly" might translate to everyone in the building works all day and leaves their poor pooches to yap and woof until the cows come home. Which, as we all know, in LA is after sushi and mojitos.

"Cozy studio" can mean cute and comfy or it can mean as cramped and tight as a walk-in closet. Not Madonna's closet(s). I'm sure hers are bi-coastal and coordinated by era, each epoch's collection larger than our entire casita. We're talking my closet here. The five foot black hole currently crammed with winter parkas, too many mismatched socks to count, and the book-filled boxes I'm storing for this alleged, yet-to-materialize summer getaway.

And the price for the privilege of said 150 square feet of space in Venice Beach?

If you have to ask, Darling, you can't afford it. Which as it turns out, is a moot detail anyway, because no one on Craig's List ever answers your e-mails (especially when they notice your out of town area code). So here we sit. Grazing the Internet till the migraines kick in, picking through rentals beyond our budget, hoping for an affordable hidden gem amongst the inflated glut of summer housing in Los Angeles. Unless we're looking for a roommate. We could afford one room. Shared bath. With a UCLA student.

So what am I cooking during all this rental drama, you impatiently ask as I ponder our next move?

GFG Tips on gluten-free bread baking:

Here's my all-time favorite baking pan for gluten-free breads. It's a lovely glazed ceramic pan that creates steady, even heating for gluten-free batters. In other words, it's as foolproof as you can get. Find it here at Amazon: Good Cook 9-Inch Ceramic Loaf Pan.

Make sure your batter isn't cold when you put it into the oven. If you keep your flours in the fridge, for instance, this will cool down your batter quite a bit.

If you find your batter is cooler than room temperature, allow the batter to rest in the pan near the pre-heating stove and let it come to room temperature before you place the bread pan in the oven to bake (I also do this with cakes sometimes).

The first time I tried making gluten-free zucchini bread I did not press the moisture out of the shredded zucchini and my loaf was a tad gummy in the middle from too much moisture. So pat those zucchini strands dry, Campers.

If you find your tea breads and cakes turning out gummy, or falling after baking, you may want to take your oven's temperature- some ovens never quite reach the proper temperature. You can combat this by baking longer, or upping the temp a bit. If the oven temp is not the issue, then start adding a tablespoon or two less liquid to your batters (you may live in a humid climate and your flours may be absorbing moisture; too much moisture can make for a gummy product).

Remember those maple sweetened almond zucchini mini-muffins? I do. They've become one of our favorite grab-and-go gluten-free treats. I tuck a bag of them- fresh out of the freezer- into my bulging purseknapsackbeach bag tote whenever we venture far afield. Like. The Valley. Because, well. You never know. It can get crazy. In L.A. you might end up jammed on the 405. Stuck as in four lanes = a parking lot stuck. Stuck as in, Dude that's my hunger growling louder than Kurt Cobain's rasp on the rattling radio speaker pleading...

I know this from experience. I learned the hard way (the way I learn most things in life). Driving in L.A. can lead to stop-n-go squatting in the baking sun. And a where is my nail file and why did I leave the apartment without food and water and ice in a cooler panic. Because the thirty-three minutes it took yesterday to get to Studio City is seventy-five minutes today.

GF DESIGNS @ CAFE PRESS

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FYI INFO

About this blog:

A tumult of water has churned beneath the bridge known as the Gluten-Free Goddess blog (born in 2005). And with that current, many changes. The highlights:

My husband and I have moved more than a half dozen times (artists with empty nests like to explore), lived in six different states, tried eating dairy-free (for seven years) and baking vegan (for five), shunning gluten 100% (still do). Along the way I've created roughly 400 recipes for you. All are gluten-free, some may also be dairy-free, and some may be vegan/egg free. All were developed in my own humble kitchen(s). From Sweet Potato Black Bean Enchiladas to Apple Crisp I have focused on tasty, seasonal, family style cooking. The kind of food we actually cook here at Casa Allrich.

Bio::

Publisher and recipe developer Karina- aka Gluten-Free Goddess- discovered she was gluten intolerant in late 2001- after a decade of unseemly, classic celiac symptoms. She has been cooking and baking gluten-free ever since, serving up hundreds of original recipes on her popular food blog, launched in late fall 2005.